Hiding in the Shadows
by SilhouettedDemise
Summary: Mckenzie Prescott’s busy life takes a sharp turn when she suddenly has an estranged sibling to take care of. But things get dangerous when Mckenzie’s relationship with her sibling triggers some of Michael Myers’ tense sister-brother memories.
1. Chapter 1

**This is all taking place after Halloween 6.  
Disclaimer: Although I do wish I owned the Halloween franchise and its wonderful characters, I sadly own nothing. Except for my own characters, Mckenzie and Sam.**

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I glanced back at the sandy haired little boy through the rearview mirror. The past four and a half hours had been spent in a deadpan silence and I was aching to break the tense atmosphere. But if I were to talk, what would I say? What would I have to say to this little boy who I've only just met? I didn't even know if he liked to be called Sam, Samuel, Sammy or if he liked TV dinners or homemade meals or if he liked to stay indoors and watch TV or ride his bike around outside. What exactly did six year olds do these days anyway? The same things I did as a kid? I didn't know. Those were the key words: I didn't know. I didn't know anything about this boy. Hell, I didn't even know he existed until a few weeks ago when DSS called to inform me that his mother, my mother, was being held in custody for forging morphine prescriptions and that since the grandparents on both sides of the child were deceased it was ideal that the boy's custody laid with me. I licked my lips nervously and spared another glance in the direction of the back seat. I wondered if he even understood the situation. I figured that he must have understood something or else he wouldn't have such a solemn expression on his face. My lips pressed together firmly and I let out an indignant sigh through my nose. I turned my attention to the noisy rush hour traffic where it belonged. But every now and again I couldn't help but let my weary eyes stray back to the sad child in the backseat.

His forehead was pressed against the glass, his bangs pushed back slightly. I noticed that he had also inherited mom's prominent cheekbones as I did, but unlike me had inherited mom's coarse blonde hair. His eyes were a mystery to me. They were a cold, steely gray…or maybe that's how they appeared on his grim face. My mind pulsated trying to pull an image of Kevin, his father, from the depths of my scattered, unorganized memory. I couldn't remember for the life of me what Kevin even looked like. I was 18 and had already moved out of the house by the time he remarried my mother, Tracy. My father, Daniel, had died when I was sixteen due to unknown causes and the year and a half I spent with my mother after he died was complete turmoil. She was heading downhill at top speed and things only got worse when she met Kevin. I felt a spark of anger flare up within me as I again peered through the mirror at this poor boy. It wasn't fair that he had to live for 6 years with a drugged out mother and scumbag of a husband who felt no remorse in walking out on this unfortunate child 2 years prior to this day. I felt slightly guilty that I had grown up with the fun good-natured Tracy. The mother with the playful green eyes and the laughter that sounded like tinkling glass, while this poor boy came into the world to be raised by the insecure and reckless Tracy. I felt even more guilty that I hadn't checked up on my mother. If I had just sucked it up and visited her I would know she had a son. I would have been able to build a relationship with this boy in the backseat.

I really wasn't sure how to handle this. I was 26, single and juggling two part time jobs while trying to finish my computer sciences major at the community college. One top of that I wasn't even sure yet if this kid wanted to live with me, his estranged stepsister. Would he hold me in disdain? I kind of doubted it. I mean, he was six. I glanced back again, startled when he made eye contact with me. I gnawed my lower lip slightly and readjusted the rearview mirror. "So," I started, gripping the steering wheel tightly, "Do you go by Samuel?" He looked away, back out the window again with that glazed expression. "Sam," he muttered. "Alright. Well, Sam, how's going out to eat sound?" I asked glancing back at him again. No response. I exhaled loudly. I hadn't realized I was holding my breath. I wish I could comprehend why I was so nervous. "Well I also thought maybe we could swing by Baskin Robins. They just opened up a new one and its nearby the house." I had avoided saying "home". Sam still didn't respond. I lowered my eyes from the mirror and watched the road grimly. _I guess T.V. dinners tonight. Just as well anyway. Tonight we should focus solely on getting settled in. _I felt a rush of relief as I pulled into the neighborhood. "Almost there," I informed. "You'll, uh, like Haddonfield. Illinois, ya know, it's a bit different from Kentucky but it's easy to adjust to." I basically made that up, because I've never set foot in Kentucky. But I thought it sounded encouraging so I let the words flow out.

The familiar sense of foreboding washed over me as we passed "the house". It was illogical that goose bumps rise up on my arms and on the back of my neck each time I passed the place. It was no more frightening to me, than it was anyone else. "Isn't that Michael Myers' old house?" Sam inquired. I looked back at him in surprise. "Yeah. How…how do you know about Michael Myers?" "News," he answered shortly. I nodded slowly and diverted my eyes from the wretched house. "Alright here we are," I announced triumphantly pulling up into the driveway of my cozy two bedroom house. I eased out of the small car grateful to stretch and feel the warm sunshine after being cramped up in the same position for 5 hours. Sam remained in the car still staring out the window. I paused, frowning, and then started unloading things out of the trunk. After a few moments, Sam slipped out of the car carrying his backpack. He waited for me to unlock the door, which was a little difficult due to the number of things I was carrying.

Once inside I turned on the lights and opened the shades in the living room. I looked at Sam timidly, motioning with my head for him to follow me down the hall. "Ok," I breathed coming to a stop in front of an open doorway leading to a plain, fresh looking bedroom, "This is your room. These next few weeks we can work on getting it how you want it to look," I said, observing the room. Sam walked in slowly, looking around. He dumped his backpack on the plaid bedspread. "I vacuumed, dusted and washed the sheets so you're good to go," I told him, while bringing in his numerous suitcases and bags. I felt a bit ridiculous after I said that. Why should this distant, unresponsive six year old actually care that I cleaned? I lingered there awhile growing more and more uncomfortable. "Ok, well the bathroom is right around the corner. Shampoo, body wash, toothpaste, toothbrush, all that is under the sink. If you want to, ya know, talk or something you can come over to my room right down the hall or if you want to watch TV in the living room that's fine too. And please, help yourself to the kitchen." I gave him a warm smile and shut the door to give him some privacy. It astounded me how mature he was for a six year old. I sunk down into the brown leather sofa and buried my face in a throw pillow.

This was a huge deal. I would be raising a kid. Through puberty and everything. Damn Tracy. Damn her to Hell. If it weren't for her stupidity and irresponsibility I wouldn't have to do this. Thank you yet again mother for ruining my life. It wasn't that I was ungrateful. I was excited to build a relationship with this boy. But I couldn't help but look on the negative side of things .How the hell am I supposed to handle two jobs, schooling and raising a kid? Especially one with some apparent emotional damage. But all things set aside, life would be better for him here. Or at least, I hoped. I sighed deeply into the pillow and then tossed it aside. I swiped the phone from its cradle on the coffee table and called my voicemail. Two from work, and one from my close friend Derek who planned on coming by Thursday to fix my dishwasher. Eh, whatever. I placed the phone back in its holder and switched on the T.V. I was only half listening since the open Sudoku book on the coffee table caught my interest but I looked up when Michael Myers became the subject matter. The news anchor was saying something about how Myers had tracked down his niece and tried to kill her. I would have heard more but I was distracted by Sam who had quietly sat down beside me. It seemed like he had been sitting there for a few minutes already and it startled me. "Hey kiddo," I said, gingerly ruffling his hair. Would he be annoyed by that? Was he offended that I called him "kiddo"? Ok so now I was being a little ridiculous. Sam looked up at me curiously. "Where is he now?" I looked back at the television which sported a photo of Michael Myers, gleaming kitchen knife dangling from his right hand. "I don't know. They've got people out there looking for him though." Sam continued to watch the television curiously. After a few moments I cleared my throat and walked over to the kitchen. "Want anything to eat? I don't really have much at the moment. Just some TV dinners, chips, cereal and there's some stuff in here to make a salad," I muttered, rummaging through the refrigerator. Sam walked into the kitchen and opened the pantry peering around. "I think I'll just have some cereal." "Alrighty then," I smiled at him, pulling a box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch from the top shelf and placing it on the table along with a bowl, spoon and a gallon of milk. I turned to the freezer and grabbed a Lean Cuisine frozen dinner and threw it in the microwave.

I leaned up against the counter and let my eyes rest on Sam awhile as he ate. He looked up and caught my eyes, smiling tentatively. I smiled back awkwardly and then turned my attention back to the microwave. I wondered if Sam hated it here. He seemed relatively comfortable right now. He was smiling a bit, looking kinda happy. I wondered if he was hurting. If he felt sadness knowing that he would no longer be with his mother. Did he even like her? Did she treat him well? _She better have_ a voice in my mind growled. The microwave beeped, interrupting my thoughts and I sat down beside Sam. We sat in a comfortable silence, me glancing at him when he wasn't watching, and him glancing at me when I wasn't watching. Sam accidentally elbowed my arm and with a playful smile I purposely did it back. Sam smiled and continued eating his cereal. I watched him now, not caring if he noticed it. He looked up a few moments later. "So is a stepsister like an actual sister then?" I put my fork down and put an arm around the kid. "Yep. And I'm really sorry that we've only just now met." He smiled, but I could tell he thought I was being fake. "How come mom didn't tell you about me?" I sighed. "Well we just haven't talked in many years. But I'm not quite sure why she didn't tell me I had a brother." "How come you didn't talk?" Were kids always this curious? I shrugged not wanting to go into it. I guess he picked up the signal because he continued eating his cereal in silence.

After dinner I walked to Sam's room and cracked the door a bit. He was under the covers head and all. I smiled. Just like I did when I was a kid. "Sam?" I said softly. "Mhmm?" I opened the door all the way and eased into the dimly lit room. "Are you comfortable? Is there anything you need? A glass of water?" I asked sitting quietly on the edge of his bed. He looked up at me and shook his head. "O.k." I whispered. And before I could stop myself, I leaned down, pushed his bangs away from his forehead and planted a kiss there. I observed him uneasily. Had that made him uncomfortable? But he just looked up at me with tired glazed eyes, a ghost of a smile on his lips. I quietly exited the room and closed the door. I leaned there against the wall for a moment. No matter how hectic things got, I would love this kid with every ounce of my being.

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Sooooo rate, review, drop me a message, ect. If you spotted any mistakes like grammar or spelling, be kind and inform me. I don't think I did, seeing as I read my stories several times before publishing, but I might have missed something.  
**And I know this wasn't a terribly exciting chapter and its short and some of you might be disappointed that there's no appearance of Michael Myers but just bear with me, k? First chapter's just about setting things up. =)**


	2. Chapter 2

**DISALIMER: Are they really necessary? I think it's pretty evident I'm not John Carpenter.**

After a moment of fumbling with the light switch, the kitchen illuminated. I closed my eyes for a moment and then opened them, adjusting to the brightness of the room. With an annoyed sigh I leaned my head against the wall. "Derek, what are you doing here?" The man placed his hands on his knees and lifted himself up off the ground. Wrench dangling from his mouth, he smiled at me cunningly. "Well g'morning sunshine." I just stared back blankly. I was in no mood to deal with this fool at these early hours. Derek turned back around examining the wrecked dishwasher. "Came by to fix the dishwasher. Well...tried to at least. What the hell did you do to this thing anyway?" I rubbed my face wearily and crossed my arms. "You're fixing my dishwasher at 4 o'clock in the morning?" Derek looked at the ground and then glanced back up. "I couldn't sleep. But, uh, how are you, Mac?" he inquired, fighting a yawn. I clenched my teeth. _Why had I given this guy a key to my house?_ "So you wake me up in the middle of the night, fixing my dishwasher because you can't sleep…I don't even understand that. And now you want to carry on a friendly conversation when its pretty obvious I have a lot to do today?"

Derek looked guilty for a minute and then shrugged. "Well since you're not sleeping now, wanna pop in a movie? I can fix the dishwasher later." I couldn't hide the sly smile creeping up on my face. No sympathy for me whatsoever, from this guy. I thought back briefly to when we first met. I wasn't too fond of him then. We worked together on the same shift at Firestone, him as a mechanic in the garage in the back, and me working at the front desk in the building. I had always thought of him as something of a horn dog, but after spending time with him on breaks he turned out to not be that bad of a guy. He was a little rude sometimes, but I don't think he realized it. I got a little more respect from him unlike some of the other women he knew. But unfortunately he was a night owl. I shook my head. "No, I need to get some sleep. I've only been getting 4 hours of sleep each night for the past two weeks. And Sam starts school tomorrow and I have to make sure he gets situated okay. And I need to quit my second job and work out some custody paperwork and enroll my community college classes online since its pretty evident I won't be able to attend my night classes and—Jesus, Derek I'm so stressed out. Ya know? How am I going to support this kid and keep my sanity intact?" I paused, waiting for Derek's response. "Well you could always let me move in," he suggested with a deviant smile. I punched him in the arm playfully. "Get outta here and let me sleep." Before he could reply, small padded footsteps approached the kitchen. Sam walked into the bright kitchen rubbing his eyes wearily. I glared at Derek and then bent down to Sam's level. "Did we wake you, sweetie?" Sam just looked up at Derek with a tentative smile.

Derek put out his hand for a high-five. "Hey buddy. You must be Sam." Sam slapped Derek's hand halfheartedly and scrunched up his face, yawning. "I'm your sister's friend. My name's Derek." Sam smiled at him shyly and then turned and looked up at me. "Do I have to go to school today?" "Nope. You're starting tomorrow." I couldn't help but smile when Sam hissed "Yessssss". Derek slapped his hands together. "So." He looked at me inquiringly. "Movie?" I let out an annoyed sigh and glanced at the fully awake Sam. I threw up my hands. "Whatever, Derek. Just…whatever."

I watched the two walk to the living room and shook my head, smiling a little as I turned to start up a pot of coffee. "Keep it PG!" I hollered, rummaging through the cabinet for a mug. I really shouldn't have had to say that, but though I had known Derek for a good year and a half, I was wary about his idea of what was appropriate for a six year old. I heard Derek's smartass voice respond, "Hmm so I take it you got rid of your Taped College Collections and Wild Party Girls." I slammed the mug down on the counter. I was not a morning person, at least not until I had caffeine coursing through my veins. "Derek, come in here," I demanded sternly. I could feel his hesitation, though he was in a separate room. He came slinking in with a rueful smile on his face. "You can't talk like that around him!" I exasperated. "Oh chill out McKenzie. A six year old wouldn't understand any of that." I raised an eyebrow. "Well you didn't know Kevin. Lord knows what kind of language that child has been subject to." I shook my head with a heavy sigh while watching the coffee drip into the pot.

I turned to look at him. With the dark expressive eyes, messy black hair, pierced ears, sexy scruff and that permanent devious smile, he definitely screamed bad influence. "You may talk that way to your buddies without a second thought, but don't talk that way around here. ...Derek, by bringing him here I'm attempting to give him a somewhat decent upbringing. Just please try to remember to be respectful towards me. I'm trying to give this my all," I said quietly, hoping he was taking me seriously. "Ok, Mac. Gotcha babe," he said nodding running a hand through his hair lazily. My face sagged a bit, realizing my words hadn't quite hit home. "Now hurry up with that coffee and get your sweet little ass out in the living room and let's spend some wholesome time together," he said in a purposefully loud tone, while exiting the kitchen. I rolled my eyes and awkwardly poured a cup of coffee. Damn I was tired. I could see my bedroom from where I was standing. The bed with its sheets tousled and soft looked so inviting I felt myself walking towards the room, my intentions to promptly crawl into the bed, stay there and not wake up for several decades. But as I heard another impatient swear word, my feet made a sharp turn towards the living room. I threw a pillow and a threatening glare in Derek's direction and positioned myself between him and Sam and looked ahead at the T.V. "What are we watching?"

Derek draped an arm over the back of the couch and propped his feet up on the coffee table. "Dunno," he said, scanning through the HBO channels. "You pick it Sam, my man." Derek tossed him the remote and Sam scanned through the channels and shrugged shyly. "I don't know. Whatever you two want to watch is fine with me." _Better not say that,_ I thought with a smirk thinking of Derek's collection of videos at his apartment. I had gone there one night to hang out and play poker with him and a few of his friends and was thoroughly disgusted by the array of "adult films" displayed proudly in a glass cabinet.

"Hm Finding Nemo sounds good to me," I said, snatching the remote before it could reach Derek's outstretched hands and clicking on the first kid friendly movie I saw. The three of us huddled up against each other in silence watching the TV screen. I felt an odd sense of comfort and security with them. I loved the feeling. I glanced at Sam as he laughed a little and then glanced at Derek who was smiling slightly. I let my head rest on Derek's shoulder and let _myself_ smile. It was something I hadn't done in awhile. Smiling felt foreign on my face but I figured that if I got in the habit of doing it more often, it would bring back some familiarity. Just me, a good friend, and my kid brother at 4 in the morning watching a movie. Things felt at ease. I pushed aside the nagging reminders of work, school and custody paperwork and allowed myself to enjoy this peaceful time. I think Derek noticed my contentment because he gave me a brief, but soft smile. And I also noticed some surprise in his eyes when they met mine. It made me wonder how long I had carried this miserable, negative aura. It instantly crashed my good mood even touching on the subject. I let the grim mood linger for a fleeting moment and then swiftly distinguished it, letting a smug smile creep up on my lips. I was happy and content. Nothing would ruin it. Except falling asleep moments later and waking from a nightmare.

"Whoa, hey, hi Mac," Derek greeted, eyebrows raised. I put a hand on my heaving chest. "Have a bad dream?" I ignored him and sniffed the air, sending a cautious look in his direction. "What's burning?" "Breakfast," he answered easily, bringing out two plates of burnt toast and overcooked eggs. I laughed heartedly. Derek set the plates down in front of me and plopped down on the couch grabbing a piece of toast off his plate. The crunch was loud. I looked down at my own plate with some distaste. "You should have woken me up. I would have cooked." "Wait a minute, do you doubt my cooking ability?" Derek accused playfully. "Oh no, Derek. Of course not. I mean, you put George Foreman to shame," I remarked sarcastically, gazing at my eggs warily. "I'm pretty sure I sensed some sarcasm somewhere in there." _No shit Sherlock._ I sighed, placing my tired face in my hands. I rested a moment and then looked up. "Where's Sam? Still asleep?" Derek, who had caught onto my not-so-subtle hints that I would never in a million years eat anything he cooked, grabbed both of our plates and headed back to the smoky kitchen.

"Nah, I went ahead and dropped him off at Becca's since we have to head out to work in about 30 minutes," he informed casually. I shot up and looked at the clock which read 7:05. "Derek!" I screeched hoarsely. "Why didn't you wake me?!" Derek paused, taking in my angry glare cautiously. "I was just trying to be considerate. I know how things have been crazy for you lately. I was just trying to let you get a few more hours of sleep in. And I feel bad for keeping you—" I didn't even hear the rest of his futile apology. I darted for the bathroom, stripped and swung the shower curtain open. I showered at warp speed and ran down the hall in a towel, hoping to God that Derek wasn't anywhere nearby. I successfully sneaked by into my bedroom and leapt into my Firestone polo and khakis. I combed my damp hair, put on a bit of mascara and raced out of my bedroom.

"He's at Becca's?" I asked, out of breath. "Mac, don't worry. Becca and Sam are settled in. They're probably playing a board game or watching TV or something," Derek assured, looking at me curiously. I knew things were probably fine, but the nagging over-protective part of me pushed its way to the front. "I'll be right back. I'm just going to run up the street to Becca's," I said as I quickly went out the door. Sunshine smacked me across the face, assaulting my tired eyes. I squinted with a groan and power walked down the street. This wasn't how I planned to start my morning. I planned to get up at 6 to make some phone calls and then drop Sam off with Becca, some teenager girl who had put flyers out for babysitting gigs to save up for a car, and then drive to work and have a pleasant day. Now, instead, I was worrying about whether Sam had everything he needed for spending 6 hours at some stranger's house and more than likely I would arrive at work late.

I gave a desultory glance at the Myers' house as I walked past it and kept moving. "Hey sis, where are you going? I'm right here. You're supposed to come find me. You're "it" this time." I froze and turned around, brow furrowed in confusion. Sam stood at the edge of the Myers' driveway smiling at me, a hand cupped over his forehead, blocking the sunlight from his eyes. "Sam." I walked briskly toward him and tripped over a pothole. I laughed in spite of myself and got straightened out. When I looked back up, he was gone. I shook my head, confused. I looked up at the Myers' house and flinched as I saw a curtain sift in the top window and a tan elbow flash by. After a few tense, ominous moments, I marched up to the Myers' house, completely overlooking the fact that it was one of the scariest houses to exist. I opened the door cautiously. Soft light poured into the desolate house. Dust particles stirred and danced lazily in the air as a breeze swept in. I walked in carefully, but each step I took sounded like a bowling ball being dropped to the floor from the top of the stairwell. A heard a tinkle of laughter and a saw a flash of red in my peripheral vision. I spun around wildly. "Sam?" I whispered. I heard another giggle and then a "shh, shh". I rubbed my temples. My lungs felt strained, my breath caught in my chest. "S-Sam?" I managed, a bit louder and more confident. No response. The dust had settled, the morning sunlight had dimmed and the house was deathly quiet.

I wrapped my arms around myself and walked in a small circle. "SAM?" I called out loudly. I looked above me at the second floor. I walked slowly towards the staircase, carefully placing a hand on the railing. The chill that ran down my spine startled me. A strangled noise crept up in my throat, but I swallowed it thickly and slowly ascended up the steps. As I climbed upwards I let my eyes wander down below. Strange dark silhouetted objects lurked in the corners. Were they bodies? I shuddered. I felt tears begin to well up in my eyes. Desperation and panic was beginning to kick in. "Sam, answer me! This isn't a game!" I hollered fearfully. "Please," I whispered quietly on the last step of the staircase. "Sam..." I looked both ways down the hallway and chose the left. I walked as quietly as I could manage. The doors were closed tightly. The cracks under the door showed that no illumination was present. Each room was most likely submerged in entire darkness. I wrung my hands nervously walking straight ahead mechanically. One door at the end of the hall was cracked open an inch or so. My fingers brushed the cool cracked paint of the wooden door as I slowly pushed it open. I froze in confusion. What I found laying on the floor of the room was not Sam, but something I hadn't seen in many years. I narrowed my eyes and strode into the room with ease, fear fading and curiosity replacing it. I knelt down to the floor cradling in my lap an ancient article from my childhood. I breathed shakily as I ran my fingers over worn, mismatched fabric. Old memories I thought I had completely forgotten flooded back. I raised the hideous thing to my face and breathed in its scent.

_"You really should get rid of that godforsaken thing, Daniel. Its been sitting in the garage getting dusty for 5 years now. And it's the most hideous thing I've ever seen," a light voice, full of laughter pleaded a lanky but handsome man. "Trace, I'm proud of that elephant. Sophomore Home-ec class. My greatest accomplishment in high school." Daniel said, hands on his hips looking down at an ancient __stuffed animal with mismatched patches covering up various stains and wear and tear, with ridiculous pride. Tracey grabbed her husband's hands and placed them on her hips. "I thought convincing me to date you was your greatest accomplishment in high school." Daniel's face broke out into a broad grin. "No that wasn't too hard. All the ladies found me irresistible. You're lucky you're so beautiful. I don't think you realized just how much competition you had." Tracey laughed, kissed her husband full on the mouth. "I think you need to take that ego of yours down a notch." Small footsteps entered the garage. "There's my special peanut!" Daniel boomed sweeping his daughter into his arms and swinging her about. Peals of laughter filled the otherwise quiet garage. Daniel set his little girl up on an empty section of his tool bench and winked at her. "Can you believe your mom is trying to get me to get rid of my favorite stuffed animal?" The small girl gasped. "Mom! You can't do that! You can't take someone's favorite stuffed animal away!" Tracey stifled a laugh. "Yeah well we can buy him a new one next time we go to Toys 'R' Us." Tracey's daughter hopped down off the tool bench and walked over to the shelf on the adjacent wall. "Is that it, Daddy?" Daniel grinned and took it down off the shelf and handed it to her. The little girl scrunched up her face and looked at it uncertainly. "It smells gross." "Yep. That's because its old .I made it myself in school many, many years ago." "You're not that old Daddy." Daniel laughed and swept her up again. "You little brownnoser, you!" He tickled her gently and set her down again. "You can have him, if you want. It could be something that you can remember me by." She looked up at him curiously. "Where are you going?" Daniel bent down and cupped his daughter's face in his hands. "Nowhere, my sweet. At least not for a long, long time." _

It wasn't until I felt small warm fingers on the nape of my neck that I realized I had slipped into a completely different universe of bittersweet memories and simpler times. I turned around, snapping out of my stupor. Sam looked down at me, his face hard and his eyes icier than ever. I squinted looking at him peculiarly. "Sam why did you run away? I was looking all over for you. I was scared." There was a long pause and then Sam removed his hand from my shoulder. "I've been seeking for a long time trying to find you, but you always hid so well." I stared at him blankly, trying to process where this strange conversation was going. "Why are you here, Sam?" Sam backed away into the shadows a bit. "I was hiding. Waiting for _you_ to come and find _me_." I peered into the darkness. "...Sam, I don't understand."

I stopped breathing suddenly, my heart pounding in my chest and dread filling my stomach. A large knife gleamed in the limited sunlight that occupied the room. Sam's eyes glistened in the dark. "I was waiting for you to find me so that we wouldn't have to play hide and seek anymore." I swallowed hard. "S-Sam, put the...put the knife down. You'll hurt yourself." Sam took a step forward. He raised the knife and let it hover in the air. My delayed brain sent panic throughout my whole body. The numbness in my legs vanished and I rolled out of the way as the knife came crashing down. I ran out of the room and raced down the stairs. My lower body was on a completely different speed than the rest of my body as I painfully fell down the steps. After quickly composing myself, I looked up despite my terror. I saw a tall dark silhouette flicker across a door in the hallway. I held my breath. Someone else was in here. Not just Sam.

I threw myself out the front door, breathing heavily. A familiar red car was going down the road but then came to screeching halt when the driver saw my disheveled state. The man hastily got out of the car and sprinted towards me. "Mckenzie!" Derek shouted frantically. Something in his voice drove my body to hysteria and I began to sob. I stood there limply as he held my shaking frame. He stepped back after a moment. "Mckenzie, what happened?" he asked steadily looking at me hard, hands planted firmly on my shoulders. "I-I-Sam..." I turned to look up at the window. Vacant. A closed curtain. I began to descend to the ground, face buried in my palms, but Derek grabbed my upper arm and pulled me up into a standing position. "Ssh calm down. Sam's at Becca's. I just called. Her and Sam are doing some watercolors in the kitchen. Sam is fine, Mac." I buried my face in his shirt and took deep, even breaths. "Do you want to drop by Becca's and see for yourself?" he asked tentatively as I pulled myself from his arms. I looked in the distance. "No. I just want to go to work." Derek shook his head indignantly. "Mckenzie you—" "Derek," I snapped my attention to him and looked at him firmly, "I want to go to work."

Derek looked at me uncertainly and then opened the passenger door, ushering me inside. I spared another glance at the house. I tried not to let the sight of a man wearing a familiar white mask staring down at me through the previously vacant window startle me. I looked away hurriedly, more frightened tears streaming down my cheeks. I heard the other car door slam shut as Derek slid into his seat. The car engine started and we drove down the street. I folded open the car mirror above the dashboard and fixed my messed up mascara. My knee throbbed from where I had fallen heavily on it. I massaged it through my ruined khakis. It wasn't something I was too concerned with at the moment, but I was sure my boss would question why I came into work so uncharacteristically messy. "You're bleeding," Derek said quietly, "On your neck." I inspected the small cut and wiped the blood away with the back of my hand. I slammed the mirror shut and gazed out the window. "Mckenzie...why were you in that house?" I didn't answer for a long while. I took a shaky breath. "I saw Sam," I responded distantly. I heard him sigh. "Mckenize, I don't think you're getting enough sleep or...or something," he finished lamely. He glanced at my lap. "What's that?" I looked down. I hadn't realized I was still carrying the hideous thing. "A stuffed animal," I replied blankly. I could feel Derek taking brief worried glances at me. I blocked him out as I fingered an ugly mismatched patch. Sleep was not an issue. What I had felt, what I had experienced...i_t was real_. Sam's touch, the man in the window...I could not have imaged it. There was no way. I sighed, rolled down the window and closed my eyes against the breeze. _I was waiting for you to find me_. I shivered, panic starting to well up within me again. I fought it down forcefully and gripped the edge of my seat. I could hear Derek speak a soft murmur of words I couldn't interpret. At that moment I was miles away concealing myself from the rest of the world and just praying someone wouldn't discover my hiding place.

**Hmm well I'm taking a different direction here than what I had originally planned. I hope this goes over well. **

Ciao 


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